


Silence

by ErokoTan



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-18
Updated: 2015-05-18
Packaged: 2018-03-31 03:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3963304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErokoTan/pseuds/ErokoTan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ludger never realized how much he hated silence until it was all that he had, but from that silence is where he draws his strength.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence

     Ludger was used to it, but it never used to be this suffocating. It was too quiet - he was ready to hear Julius' voice one last time, but there were no words, just a heart wrenching void that greeted him.   
And it hurt a lot more than any wound ever did; it was the type of hurt that reminded him of every little burn he had gained for his brother's sake, the type of hurt that made him ill to his stomach every time he glanced down at his hands.

     Those hands... the hands that took his brother's life.   
Breath was hard to draw, and vaguely the agent could feel that numbing feel of his hands which were clenched with the nails digging into his palms.

It was too much; too cruel, as even the memories that he had of his brother seemed to be muted. He knew the words in these memories, but he couldn’t pull his brother’s voice too them and it hurt.

     He wondered if he screamed would that be silent as well? It was tempting to try, but Ludger felt as if he had no energy for it, no will. Which made him wonder what Julius would say to him – probably scold him really, but again thinking these things had no weight to them when the agent’s world seemed to be muted.

     For a moment he wondered it if was worth it – to sacrifice his brother to stop Bisley, to lose _everything_ he loved just so the world could go on equally.

_But that’s not right._

His thoughts were a little fragment of memory then, in that voice that he had been aching to recall. Tears began to well in his eyes and finally he unclenched his hands, half-moon indents left in the wake of his nails.

The voice was a reminder that he still had to move on – to save the last thing that he loved, otherwise she too would be out of his reach, and silence would take over her voice.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Short little thingy, done to get myself back into the groove of writing.


End file.
